


Fire and Ice

by languageismymistress



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, fix it after the last episode, smut with plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-23 07:49:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6109987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/languageismymistress/pseuds/languageismymistress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even after a fight, Len and Mick come together</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fire and Ice

It wasn’t heavy or rushed as most of their times were these days. This was about reassurance, remembrance, intimacy that neither ever spoke of nor would they. Len was never one to raise a hand to those he loved, he had experienced that first hand and knew that it left a sour taste in his mouth. 

 

Mick was Mick and Len would never change a thing about him though it was needed. Locking him away, he would have words to Rip about, but hearing Mick, seeing him with that fire and burn in his eyes and it aimed at him. It set a cool chill down his spine that he prayed to whoever was willing to listen that he never wanted that towards him again. 

 

He held his hands over Micks heart, their way of saying ‘I love you.’ It was never spoken, never needed, Mick knew and Len nodded. This time, it was remembrance. Not about why they were on Rips wacky adventures through time and time. This was about them.

 

To remember why they stuck by each other side through thick and thin. Micks fire needing its cooling agent and that will and will always be Len. He was the moth to Micks flame. They came together in the Iron Heights cell, thrown together through sheer luck. Mick saved his back from being gauged with whatever implement his father had and Len gave Mick the reassurance that it will get better. 

 

Hands held together as Mick bit down into his neck, not for pleasure or pain, for knowing that they survived. For Len to feel it burn through his ice cold veins. Those veins that Mick had melted down with his fire. The intensity that he was matched the cold calculations that Len gave out. Their smalls bands inked around their ring finger was the reminder that was lost from time to place. 

 

Len whispered Micks name, low and hoarse, Mick smirked against his skin. Remembering the day when they first did this, not intimate and loving but rushed and heated. Chest to wall and back to chest. Len had screamed Micks names, Mick holding their hands over their heads, pinned to the wall. The closest they had ever been before, the first time yes, but never the last. 

 

Len arched his neck as he felt Micks finger, familiar and warm, like coming home after a long heist to the heat of the fireplace. Mick was hard and soft, he knew what angles to hit and where to make him beg. It wasn’t needed, Len was willing to give as he did himself when Mick didn’t have to ask. It was given through trust and voice of plans. It was given when hands weren’t hitting him hard but soft over his features. 

 

His body shook with want and desire. Mick chuckled low, his breath adding fire to his cheeks. He had never felt the warm embrace of another like he did with Mick. There was touch and need, both learning the others body in ways like no one had ever done before. It was with heart and heat, coming home to the one you want. Len never cared for the songs that Lisa sung but with Mick, the lyrics made that little more sense. 

 

He bit down on his bottom lip as he felt Mick enter him. He was always grateful when Mick went slow, letting him feel the burn but settle to the filling. He bottomed out but made no move to push back and in, it wasn’t the time for the rush. Mick was making sure Len was good, he was okay with it all. A quick nod and touch to his hip was all that Mick needed. No words or gasps between them, they were never needed, not any more. 

 

When they were younger and starting to experiment each other, it was important to feel it, to know that it was good and what was bad. Mick once set Len into a spiral with a touch to his scar that he had forgotten about. After that, communication was key until it was second nature. That’s what they were, they were second nature to each other. Nods to whispers, touch to no voice. It was settling to know that Mick didn’t needed anything else. 

 

Mick rolled his hips slowly, not testing or teasing, but reassuring to them. Len needed Mick as much as Mick needed Len. Two souls burning for the other. His hands were slick, running over Mick back, pushing into his skin, running over his shoulder, feeling Mick there with him. It wasn’t a dream, it was and will always be reality. They were partners in all sense of the word. No one was needed to make fuss. No labels pushed onto them by society. Neither could care what others think. All that was important was   
family. 

 

Mick moved faster, not heavier or hotter, with a pace that was building gradually, enabling Len to get used to the feel and size, the way that Mick rolled his hips and changed angle to thrust where Len needed. Their moans tangled together as they did on the bed. Sheets down at the foot of the bed, pillow under Lens head. Their bodies becoming one, Len not knowing where he ended and Mick begun. It was intimate and close. Pleasure from the feeling of the other being together with the other forever and the next. Their tattoos, both ring and chest formed together to shine as one. 

 

He was close and closer then he had been in a while, Mick getting strong as his hips moved faster. Len arched into him, his eyes wide open, the ceiling stared back at him. Mick rested his arms either side of Len, few more thrusts needed until both were panting, weary and worn out. Both from the bed and the days events. They always came together, after any and all blow outs, it was them. They fought together and against each other. It was how they worked well and strong as a team. 

 

Len let his eyes close, breathing slowly as he let his thoughts fly out of him mind, just for the moment, needing to remember where he was and who he was with. A cool cloth wiped over his stomach, Mick cleaning off the dried stickiness that was left. He let himself give a soft smile, the bed dipping under Micks weight. He himself turned onto his side, Mick resting one arm over him, chest barely touching back. 

 

They are good, will always be good, no matter what the universe throws at them.


End file.
